


Hers

by IShouldBe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Romance, ss/hg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:26:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4683623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IShouldBe/pseuds/IShouldBe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius huffed a laugh. "Don't you have a little witch to please now?" But still, his lips parted and Severus dipped his mouth, ghosting a kiss. </p>
<p>SS/HG HEA...Always :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

Welcome to the odd little fic that I've written when I should be researching alchemy stuff for the  _Demon Mirror_  series… *whistles*

Mainly, I wanted to write a Severus/Lucius kiss…but then my OTP won out. Oops?

Finished in 2 parts.

* * *

Hinges creaked. Hermione Granger froze. Shit.  _Shit_.

She'd promised Severus that she'd be in and out of Lucius' office. A quick job. Find the lamassu feather and get out. And she had the bloody thing, had it tucked into the ornate bodice of her dress robes. It pricked at her skin. She was certain it'd drawn blood—

Another creak and a slow whine. The door was opening.

She ducked under the great desk and curled as tight as she could. Spells for silence, to obscure her breath and heat rolled over her skin. She had to stay utterly still for them to work. Which was insane. Someone should really look into that flaw—

The door swung open. "I left it here, Severus. It's no bother for me to retrieve it." Lucius' aristocratic tones cut the air and he swept into the room, all elegant finery and a whisper of expensive cologne.

Severus was with him. His gaze was casual…but he found her. A brief frown tugged at his mouth. Her heart thudded. He was his usual, black-clad self, but his clothes that night were of a fine and expensive cut. In the soft candlelight of the room, with the hint of the fire crackling in the great hearth, his pale skin, such a contrast to his black hair and eyes, made him look otherworldly.

Hermione pulled in her focus. Mooning over how good he looked wouldn't help her escape the room. She had to rely on her partner, on Severus. He'd get Lucius out again, or provide a distraction. It's what he did. She was the thief. And if things went pear-shaped, he, as her guardian, got her out in one piece. She stopped herself from wincing. It was insane what they had to do for the Ministry.

"Lucius…?" Severus picked a piece of non-existent lint from his frockcoat.

"It's here. I know it is.  _Mysteriorum Liber Primus_  in Dee's own hand.

Severus pursed his lips. "Narcissa will complain if we're both gone for too long."

"She times me, you know? Sends elves after me. As if I were a recalcitrant four year old."

Severus laugher was soft and warm. Strangely intimate. A shiver ran over Hermione's skin. The bloody feather stabbed at her and she held back a pained wince.

"Your wife knows you too well."

"I haven't strayed." Lucius' voice sounded off. A confession…but  _to_  Severus.

"I never doubted that."

His long fingers brushed over the sharp plane of Lucius' jaw, something slow, sure. Something familiar. Hermione pressed her hand to her mouth. Her chest constricted. He… They –had been—  _were_ …lovers? No, she had to be wrong. Had to be. Weren't  _they_  getting closer? Or she thought they were. Had she been reading  _everything_  the wrong way?

Malfoy's perfect lips quirked upwards and the candlelight of the small study caught in this pale eyes, his hair shining white-gold. "You think to sway me with this little display?"

Severus' thumb drew a line under the other wizard's bottom lip. He met that sly smile. "How could I deny myself a taste of this luscious mouth?"

Hermione's breath caught and she pressed her knuckles —hard— to her lips to deny the little escaping squeak.  _Severus?_

Lucius huffed a laugh. "Don't you have a little witch to please now?" But still, his lips parted and Severus dipped his mouth, ghosting a kiss.

"Old times, Lucius." Severus' teeth caught Lucius' bottom lip and the wizard's chest hitched, his knuckles whitening around the ornate pommel of his hideously pretentious walking stick. Severus' tongue bathed the wound he'd made. "Breaking the tedium of a Governors' meeting?" Another brush of his lips, longer, tasting him, his fingers teasing over the sharp plane of Lucius' jaw to slip, slide into the white glow of his hair.

Severus' smooth voice had lowered, softened, barely more than a heated whisper. "A convenient alcove with Minerva's shrewish brogue a loathed distraction? I'd push you to your knees in the stone and the dust and put that hot, greedy, so-sweet mouth of yours to its  _proper_  use."

Lucius groaned, his eyelids flickering, his whole body taut under Severus'...enchantment. And it was. A mesmerising spell. Hermione bit her knuckles and denied the blurring of tears. Her chest ached. Severus could to that. Spellbind anyone with his voice alone, whisper the most innocent of words and clothe them in sin. Delicious sin. And she thought that he, that they… She'd fallen for it all. Completely.

"Your hand..." Lucius swallowed and wet his lips with a quick tongue. "Your hand on my dick as  _he_  ranted. Fuck, Severus, his  _snake_  almost caught us that time."

"Worth it?" Wicked humour lined the dark wizard's rich voice.

Lucius' grin was sharp. "For him to applaud my pious expression, the obvious joy I took in his insane rhetoric?  _Entirely_  worth it."

"Something for the old times, then," Severus murmured, his fingers fisting in Lucius' hair.

Lucius hissed, but pressed his body against Severus' lean frame. "And your little witch?"

A thread of jealousy had wrapped around Lucius' question and Hermione's stomach dropped. The two wizards had a hidden past, becoming lovers even with Narcissa –his  _friend_ — as Lucius' wife. And they'd stopped? Was she reading that right? They had. For a while—though Narcissa obviously didn't quite trust her husband… But, what would keep them from resuming an obviously potent relationship now they were so obviously rediscovering it?

"Just a kiss, Lucius."

Laughter rippled from the blond wizard, low and dark. "Severus Snape. They are  _always_  your first words in a seduction."

Severus pushed the other wizard against the darkened, alcove wall, his leg thrusting between Lucius' easily parted thighs. "They work, don't they?"

They were his words. Ones whispered to her in the shadows of the library at Grimmauld Place. And they  _had_  worked. Worked as well on  _her_  as they were working now on Lucius bloody  _Malfoy_. Bastard. Utter, utter bastard.

Hermione pulled her thoughts together, ignoring the hard ache in her chest. She had to get out. This was her prime chance. Lucius was completely distracted –and she wasn't listening to the rustle of fabric, or to the soft, aching moans, not at all. Not to any of it.

With her mouth tight, so tight her jaw muscles twisted with pain, she scuttled from the office. Out. She had to get out. Get away.

Sumptuous corridors, gilded with gold and a thousand years of pure-blood ancestry, were a blur. Her focus was on her maintaining her occulmancy shields. Of appearing to be the bouncy, over-eager Hermione Granger everyone expected.

The crush of the banqueting hall, thick with chatter, expensive perfume and the tease of magic swept around her. Hermione edged though, smiling, waving and desperate for the open doors and the freedom they promised—

"Miss Granger? Leaving us so soon?"

A weight plunged in her belly. Narcissa Malfoy offered her hand and a gracious smile. Guilt wrenched though Hermione. She wanted to scream at the witch that her husband was probably being fucked six ways till Sunday by  _her_  wizard.

But Severus Snape wasn't hers. Had he  _ever_  been? Hermione's chest ached. Bastard.

"An emergency at the Ministry." Hermione gave a little shake of her head. "No doubt, a file that is  _right there_ , right there on the desk, is lost and never to be found."

A wry little smile lifted Narcissa's perfect lips. "The Ministry is our bitter master."

"So it is, Narcissa."

The smooth, darkly spoken words ran a shiver over Hermione's skin. Long fingers touched her elbow and she fought not to jerk away.

_Severus_.

Shit.

* * *

As ever, let me know what you think :)

I'll post the second part tomorrow. Promise *grin*


	2. Chapter 2

A bit late, but the ending was just a-r-g-h, because I'm not used to writing so short for this pair.

_Innocent Shadows_  is poking at me again, so I wanted this done and not a epic mass :D

* * *

How they left the sprawling Malfoy home, Hermione had no idea. Severus had a firm grip of her elbow and with a forced-march over the winding paths to the edge of the wards, he apparated them into his softly lit, book-cluttered front room.

Hermione staggered, wrenching her arm from his hard hold. She yanked the lamassu feather form the bodice of her gown and flung it to the low table. The bloody thing swished and floated, giving her no satisfaction at all.

"There. You can hand it over to Peabody." Her heart hammered and she fixed her gaze on the smooth rug set before the hearth. The embers there were glowing brighter in the blackened fireplace, warming into flames as his magic reacted to its master's return. "I—"

"Hermione…"

His hand moved into her vision and she jerked back. "Don't touch me!" Her hand snapped to cover her mouth and a sob broke from her. Tears threatened, but she willed them back. Breathe. She had to breathe. One kiss, one incredible kiss from a wizard she'd  _always_  wanted, did not a relationship make. But still… She'd thought it meant something to him. It did –had— to her.

Severus sank into his chair before the fire and raked long fingers through his hair. His head fell back against the padding. He let out a long sigh. "Lucius Malfoy has always…desired me."

Hermione blinked. Was he  _bragging_?

Dark eyes, heated by flecks of gold fixed on her. Her heart jolted. He couldn't look at her that way. Not now. Not ever again. "Sit, Hermione." He waved a hand to the chair opposite and her mouth thinned. "I will explain. Or you can leave. Your choice."

Just a week. They'd been a…something for only seven days and only one kiss to mark it. And work had been a bitch with the insane Malfoy job. She glared at the long feather, so precious, as it came from an extinct race of magical creatures. An ingredient in the darkest of potions. But still, a feather? She'd risked her sanity and heart for a fucking  _feather_? Severus had assured her-

Her thoughts bounded back to the man in the chair and the images, the sounds from Malfoy's study crashed over her again. Her nerves were straining tight with the horror that she'd misunderstood Severus. The polished, so-very-practised ease with which he'd seduced Lucius Malfoy stabbed every doubt through her. Her thoughts, her emotions were caroming and she couldn't balance herself. The loss of control terrified her.

She dragged her fingers through escaping curls, something rhythmic, soothing. Her chin jerked up. "What is there to explain? You were –are— lovers."

"I am no longer his lover."

Fuck, she didn't want that statement to ease the panic bubbling in her chest. But it shrank the terror, the hard pain under her ribs, the tightness that made it so hard to breathe, to think. Yet…spikes of anger still lurked. He was supposed to be  _hers_. "Then why—?"

"Nothing else would've distracted Lucius, not enough for you to make your escape. You know this, Hermione. My role, as your guardian, demands that I do everything necessary to keep you safe." Severus sat forward and his long fingers curled in hard, forming a bloodless line across his knuckles. Anger cut under his words, hot and bitter. "And if that means grabbing Lucius Malfoy's  _dick_ , then that is what I must do."

Hermione dropped into the chair. "It didn't mean anything?"

"An act."

" _All_  of it?"

Severus held her gaze, his harsh face tight, this lips thinned, pinched. For a long moment, he closed his eyes. Then he was staring at her again. Obsidian eyes bright and fierce. His voice was hard. Sure. "I am with you."

Her breath caught and her hand found her mouth again to deny the pained half-sob that wanted to break free. The four bitten-out words stabbed at her. She hadn't trusted him. Hadn't believed  _in_  him. Had thought the worst  _of_  him.

She closed her eyes. Stupid. She was so stupid—

"Hermione…" She jumped at the light brush of his fingers across her knee. "A long time ago, I was flattered by Lucius' attention." He lifted an eyebrow. "Even you must admit he's a very beautiful wizard."

She huffed a disgruntled breath and Severus' lips quirked upwards. But his attempt at humour had smoothed over another ragged nerve.

"I…used his infatuation. Through both wars and the waiting. He was aware that what we shared was a…a grasping for pleasure in a time of horrors. He knew I never wanted more."

"Though he did. Does."

Severus' lips pressed together and he gave her a slow nod.

"He loves you."

Severus winced. "It's possible." His eyes held hers, endless and with something edging them. Straining them. Something she had to label…fear.

_Fear_. In a wizard such as Severus Snape. Impossible. And he was letting  _her_  see it. What…? Could it be a fear of her not believing him? Why would he…?

Severus' fingers curled away from her knee and he eased back into the flickering shadows of his chair. "I found pleasure with him, but nothing more. He is in my past." His smooth voice was little more than a whisper. "Lucius Malfoy does not hold my heart."

That admission smacked into her. What…? Who could…?

She blinked. Her mind spun and she had to grab at the arms of the chair. Her nails dug into the thick linen. No. Yes? Merlin's little green apples. Hermione's heart thudded and the wavering rush of panic surged back through her blood with tidal force. She lashed every ounce of her Gryffindor courage and threw it around her next question. She wet parched lips. Offering up a silent prayer to every god she could think of, she asked, "Do…do  _I,_ Severus?"

Her fingers twitched in her lap. He was simply staring at her. With an inch of a smile on his face. Oh, gods. She did. He…oh, she  _did_. And before he could say  _anything_ , her wild whip of adrenaline snapped any form of control and ran away with her mouth.

"Gods, Severus. I do? Me? Do you…do you love me? Because that would be," a peal of laughter broke from her and her hands flapped, "that would be brilliant, because I, well, I love you. Have loved you. For ages. Since we started this insane partnership. Before, actually." She frowned. "Should I mention that crush I had on you in Second Year? Or Third Year? Oh and Fourth Year, when you showed Fudge… Actually, it didn't stop. The crushing, that is. Well, it did for a bit. Sorry. But, after the war, even with the day-and-a-half that saw me with Ron. Ron? What was I  _thinking_ —?"

"Hermione!"

She jerked back into the moment. What? What the hell had that been?

Severus was kneeling before her. He caught her hands and held them to her knees. His shoulders drew up, his chest swelling with air before he released it. "Breathe."

Hermione snapped her teeth together. She followed his slow, sure example. Three times. Her face burned. The wizard she had wanted for almost half of her life had all but said he loved her and she, she reacted as if she'd been hit with a Babbling Curse. She shut her eyes. Fuck.  _Fuck_. "I just made a total  _arse_  of myself."

"I happen to like your arse." She heard the smile wrapped around his words. "Very much."

Hermione groaned and her head dropped.

"You saw the wizard you love," he tipped her chin up and his mouth had twitched into one of those delicious and distracting little smirks, "with someone else. A former lover. And he dismissed you." Severus sighed. "I'm sorry." His thumb stroked over her lips and the touch tingled. "I should be glad you're not hexing me."

"I  _should_  hex you."

"Not tonight."

The promise in those two words wrapped a calming warmth around her flesh and the last of her wild panic and fear ebbed away. Her shoulders slumped. Weariness sat on her. Gods, being in love was exhausting.

Severus lips brushed hers, a light touch, a whisper that still heated her blood. She licked her lips and it was relief that she tasted only him.

"There's no trace of Lucius on me. I promise."

Hermione pinched at her eyes before she let out a long breath. She huffed a laugh. "I was so scared, Severus. You were mine. At least I  _thought_  you were and then…"

Severus rose, smooth, with elegance and offered her his hand. He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. She pressed herself willingly to his chest. The familiar hints of sandalwood and hickory warmed her senses, the silk of his frockcoat smooth under her cheek. She let out a slow, blissful sigh.

"I should have made myself clear last week, but  _Weasley_  and then  _Potter_ ," there was still that cut of derision. Three years of peace had hardly smoothed its edge, "interrupted us." He rested his chin on her wildness of her hair. "I put your strain down to having to attend a party at Malfoy Manor."

"Also that."

"Hermione, look at me." His voice was low and soft and tingled under her skin. She lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest. A line formed between his brows. "Such insolence." But a spark of humour lit his dark eyes. He brushed a curl from her temple. "I am making my intentions known now. I am yours. Completely."

Her chest bloomed and a smile broke from her, even as her eyes burned. She pressed her lips together to deny her tears. Her fingers stretched against the broadness of his back, reluctant to fist the fine silk of his coat and squeeze the bloody man till he squeaked. "You're only interested in my backside."

Severus snorted a laugh. " _Also_  that." He stroked a slow line down her cheek and dipped his mouth to hers in a slow, almost chaste kiss. "I have put on so many masks for so many people, Hermione, but I swear you will have only my honesty." The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "Always."

"Bed."

Severus lifted an eyebrow at her sudden declaration.

She wrinkled her nose. "I'm tired. You, you deliciously insufferable man, have mentally and emotionally exhausted me. Now, I would like to get out of this fright of a frock, find your bed and go to sleep." She let her fingers find the sliver of exposed skin above his collar in a slow caress. His hiss of pleasure, dropped familiar heat low in her belly. "With you, Severus."

His smile was slow and hot and Hermione was certain that with the first light of morning, sleep would be the very last thing on either of their minds.

And it was.

* * *

Bit of an odd ficlet this, so let me know what you think! :)


End file.
